


First Snow (Vodka x Reader)

by foodfantasies (hereisnowhy)



Category: Food Fantasy (Video Game)
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Fluff, F/F, F/M, Female Friendship, Female Master Attendant (Food Fantasy), Fluff, Friendship, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Male Master Attendant (Food Fantasy), Other, Reader-Insert, Romantic Friendship, Vodka
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:36:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21928333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hereisnowhy/pseuds/foodfantasies
Summary: A fun little Christmas-themed fluff piece. You and Vodka having a festive night on the town!Not overly romantic - could be a interpreted as a friendship too! No gendered pronouns used when referring to the reader.
Relationships: Master Attendant & Vodka (Food Fantasy), Master Attendant/Vodka (Food Fantasy)
Kudos: 6





	First Snow (Vodka x Reader)

Two days before Christmas, and downtown was sparkling. Wreaths, ribbons and twinkling lights festooned every shop awning and streetlamp, and the streets were busier than ever, swarmed with shoppers balancing cheerfully wrapped packages in their arms. Even in the summertime the nights in town weren’t this lively. Though the sun had long since set, people and Food Souls alike bundled up against the chill and ventured out to experience the festive atmosphere. 

The silver-haired woman currently clutching your hand in hers and pulling you along behind her, however, wasn’t at all dressed for cold weather. A mini-dress of red velvet hugged her body and ended far above her stockinged knees. Two golden bells hung from a ribbon at her collar, and jingled faintly with each determined step.  
“Come, come, let’s go for a drink,” she urged you, yanking your arm through the crowd.

“Vodka, wait, hold on a second!” you stammered, shooting an apologetic glance at a woman whose shoulder you forcefully bumped as you passed.   
“We’ve already had a few, and we’ve only been out for an hour!”   
She stopped suddenly and spun on her heels to face you.   
“I can't afford you being such a lightweight, yeah?” she said briskly, tapping you once on the nose. “Alright, let's start building up your ability to hold your liquor.”  
Laughing, you were once again pulled along, this time straight through the doors of a small, unassuming tavern.

Vodka smoothed down her hair and dress as she took a seat at the bar, then patted the stool next to her in a wordless command; _sit._  
You climbed awkwardly atop it, planting your elbows on the counter and pulling off your mittens. The bar was empty, no patrons aside from the two of you.

A tall, broad-shouldered woman emerged from a curtain behind the bar, and seemed to recognize Vodka immediately. With a smile, she poured two glasses of a clear spirit over ice and placed them on the counter in front of you.   
“ _Spasibo,_ ” Vodka said primly, wasting no time in raising the glass to her lips and draining it.   
The woman laughed, carrying over the large bottle and filling her glass back up.   
You eyed your drink nervously.   
“Vodka on the rocks,” the bartender said to you with a wink, shooting a look at your Food Soul, “though _she_ downs them like they’re shots.”   
Vodka scoffed and waved a hand dismissively as she finished her second drink.

You took a sip and felt it splash down your throat like frigid fire; you spluttered and choked, and the bartender reached out to pound your back good-naturedly while Vodka stared at you in mild horror.   
“Don’t _waste_ it, Attendant,” she scolded, “You can’t get liquor like this anywhere else!”   
“I can’t tell if it burned me or froze my insides solid,” you rasped, pushing the glass away. Vodka snatched it up and finished it herself, shaking her head.   
The bartender chuckled, already pouring something golden and clear from one of the taps and handing it over to you. 

You gulped it down, happy to have something to wash away the bitterness lingering on your tongue. Heaving a satisfied sigh, you glanced apologetically at Vodka.  
“I’m sorry,” you said sheepishly, “I can’t drink alcohol neat the way you can, it’s just too harsh.”   
She pursed her lips and squinted at you in a mock pout before breaking into a radiant smile and tickling your chin.   
“Attendant, you’re so cute,” she said with a tinkling laugh. “How can I stay mad at you?”   
You blushed, rubbing the back of your neck and averting your eyes. She was so beautiful, so ethereal; you couldn’t help but feel butterflies when she treated you so affectionately.

“Finish that,” she ordered you, tapping your glass with a well-manicured fingernail. Suddenly the cry of an eagle sounded from outside, and Vodka’s eyes darted to the open door. She stepped nimbly down from the barstool, heels tapping across the floor.   
“Come, Attendant,” she called over her shoulder as she exited the bar.   
You leapt up, digging in your pockets for coins as you hastily quaffed the rest of your drink. Scattering the money on the counter, you looked up to bid farewell to the woman behind the bar, but she wasn’t there.   
“Go on, then,” her voice boomed warmly from behind the curtain, “She’s got an open tab, so go. Catch her if you can.”   
You darted outside, the woman’s laughter following you out into the street. Cursing Vodka’s flightiness, you shielded your eyes against the glare of bright lights bouncing off of fresh snow.

 _Wait a minute. Snow!  
_Through a sea of people laughing and gesturing at the sky you saw her: Vodka stood before a towering white-dusted Christmas tree, her back to you, her right arm raised. André, her white eagle, circled overhead, issuing another cry before swooping down and alighting on her outstretched hand.

She turned to you, laughing, hair blowing across her face as André beat his mighty wings.  
“Snow, snow! It’s snowing, Attendant!” she called out joyously, her voice ringing through the air like a silver bell. She extended her free hand to you, and wordlessly, you took it. 

She looked so radiantly, authentically happy: her cheeks glowing, her hair swept across her face like a gossamer veil. André turned his fierce eyes on you and lowered his head, inviting you to stroke his soft feathers and nuzzling into your touch. You stood there together as the fresh snow fell, gazing up at the sky. 

“You know, I really like being with you,” she said quietly. You looked at her. She was still staring upwards, her expression unreadable. You felt closer to her than you’d ever felt before, but you knew this moment was crystalline — as fragile as the tiny snowflakes you saw glittering on Vodka’s white lashes. Say the wrong thing and you’d shatter it.  
You simply squeezed her hand. As she squeezed it back you saw the faintest smile at the corners of her lips and knew she’d received your unspoken reply.

“Vodka…” you began.   
“Yes, Attendant?”   
The silence hung heavy in the air. You chose your next words carefully.   
“Can… can we go get some hot cocoa next?”   
She burst into a laugh, then scoffed and nudged you, and you giggled and leaned your head on her shoulder.   
“ _Pleeeaase_?” you said, drawing out the word in a childish whine, “I’m freezing!”   
“You wouldn’t be so cold if you’d had more to drink!” she scolded, giving you a little shove.   
“How do you know?”   
“ _I’m_ not cold at all.”   
“That’s not fair, you’re _never_ cold!”   
You continued your playful squabbling as, arm in arm, you walked back together towards the main street. Your laughter mingled with the happy chatter of the crowd you rejoined, and though the night was cold, your heart felt as warm and merry as the smiling faces all around you.


End file.
